


I Wanna Hurry Home to You

by PinkCanary



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, Mostly fluff and smut, Multi, Polyamory, Sub!Clarke, artist!Clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He lifted the corner of one blanket, revealing Clarke and Raven, already dressed in tank tops and PJ pants, snuggled together on a pile of pillows. Raven lifted her head from where it had been resting on Clarke’s stomach, to look up at him as he entered. “Blanket fort rules are no shoes, pants optional. Three drink minimum. Cuddles are mandatory.”</p><p>Various unrelated Bravenlarke fics based on Tumblr prompts.  Some canon, some AU.  Mostly fluff, with a nice helping of smut.</p><p>Rating will vary from chapter to chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Cuddling in a puppy pile"

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song Slow Show by The National. Because it's stuck in my head today. ;)
> 
> Prompt: "Cuddling in a puppy pile"

The hot weather protocols had been firmly established by their second year on the ground. After treating half of the camp for dehydration, heat stroke, and sunburn, they had quickly learned that the best way to survive the hot and humid summers was to seek out shade and minimize strenuous activity during the hottest part of the day. 

To put it bluntly, they napped.

Raven stared up at the canopy of green above her, her fingers tracing lazy circles over the expanse of tan skin beneath her head. She hit a particularly ticklish spot, and Bellamy’s muscles twitched underneath her hand.

His eyes flickered open, and he shot her an annoyed glare. “Do you mind?”

“Sorry, but if you’re going to sleep shirtless, then I’m going to touch. It’s part of the agreement.”

Bellamy snorted softly. “It’s too fucking hot to wear clothes.”

Raven hummed in agreement, wiggling her bare legs against the prickly grass beneath her. She had just turned her attention back to Bellamy’s abdominal muscles, when she heard the sound of footsteps crunching through dry leaves; the gait was familiar, and Raven saw no need to move from her comfortable position. 

Clarke didn’t even bother to announce her presence as she arrived in their clearing; she kicked off her boots, stripped off her jeans, and flopped on to the forest floor next to them. “The clinic is an inferno today.” She complained.

Raven repositioned Clarke, guiding her head down on to her stomach so that she could stroke Clarke’s damp hair away from her forehead. “You’re just as cranky as Bell, today.”

A gentle hand swatted half-heartedly at her good leg. “Some of us are trying to sleep, here.”

“See what I mean?”

Clarke turned to face Raven, her cheek pillowed against her soft stomach and her eyes already starting to droop. “Shhhh. No bickering during nap time. This is the best part of summer.”

Raven grinned and closed her eyes. Well, she couldn’t argue with that.


	2. "Building a blanket fort."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Building a blanket fort."

Bellamy sighed as he looked around the mostly empty room. His tutorial section for the first year history class that he was TAing this semester was supposed to have twelve students in it, but he was lucky to get four on a good day. Who scheduled a tutorial for 4:00 on a Friday afternoon? You’d think that TWENTY PERCENT OF YOUR FINAL GRADE would mean something, but first year students, man.

He was just finishing up the discussion, when his phone suddenly vibrated from the spot that he had placed it next to his clipboard. The screen lit up, flashing a text message from Raven. “BLANKET FORT!!!!” 

Bellamy had to bite his lip to keep from grinning, but he lost the battle when the next message came through. His screen was filled with a selfie of Clarke and Raven, Raven’s lips smooshed against Clarke’s cheek, as they both hammed it up for the camera. He caught sight of the quilt that lived on their sofa in the background, proving that they were, in fact, in a blanket fort. 

Nerds.

The screen on his phone dimmed after a second, and his attention snapped back to his current reality. The current reality where he was sitting at the front of his tutorial section, with three (THREE! TWENTY PERFECT OF YOUR FINAL GRADE, PEOPLE!) first year students who were staring at him with unmasked curiosity. 

He forced the (embarrassingly large and dopey, he was sure) smile off of his face, attempting to regain his mask of stoic “I don’t give a crap as long as you don’t all fail”. He was pretty sure he mostly succeeded. Mostly.

Fox, who sat in the front row and was the only student who never missed a class, raised her eyebrows at him skeptically. “You okay there, Bellamy?”

Crap, he couldn’t even fool three first year students. 

“Um…. yeah. My, uh, girlfriends are building a blanket fort.” He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck self-consciously. 

Her eyebrows crept up higher on to her forehead. “Girlfriends? Exactly how many girlfriends do you have?”

Oh god, the two of them were enough trouble together as it was. “Just the two.”

Another voice - a guy near the back that Bellamy had never seen before - spoke up. “You’re really living the dream, man.” He at least had the good sense to sound slightly impressed. Fucking first years.

Bellamy’s attention was drawn back to his phone, as the screen flashed to life once again. 

****

Clarke: If you’re not here in 15 minutes, we’re starting Community without you. We’re doing a shot every time someone mentions Annie’s boobs - either the monkey or Annie’s actual boobs. 

****

****

He couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling up out of his throat.

Living the dream? “Don’t I know it.”

Seventeen minutes later, Bellamy opened the door to their apartment, only to be confronted by the reality that their entire living room was now consumed by a giant blanket fort. As he fully expected.

Raven called out to him from somewhere within the blankets. “Get in here, Bellamy! No boobs yet, but I’m sure we’re going to be drunk by the third episode.”

He lifted the corner of one blanket, revealing Clarke and Raven, already dressed in tank tops and PJ pants, snuggled together on a pile of pillows. Raven lifted her head from where it had been resting on Clarke’s stomach, to look up at him as he entered. “Blanket fort rules are no shoes, pants optional. Three drink minimum. Cuddles are mandatory.”

“Are we really spending our Friday evening in a blanket fort that you two built expressly for a Community marathon?”

Clarke gave him a stern look. “Community drinking game. It seemed appropriate.” She raised one eyebrow at him. “Do you have a problem with this?”

Bellamy grinned as he toed off his shoes and then started on his belt because really, pants were optional.

“Nope, no problem here.” He lowered himself down to the nest of pillows beside Clarke, smiling to himself when she immediately turned her upper body in to him, dropping her head down to his shoulder. “We’re definitely living the dream.”


	3. "I like making you wait."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I like making you wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely rated explicit!

Clarke traced her fingers along the lines of Raven’s ribcage, counting the bumps of hard bone as she stroked over them. She could feel Raven’s breath catch in her chest, the skin jumping under her fingertips. 

Clarke, Raven, and Bellamy were stretched out in the bed, a low nest of furs and blankets, in the cabin that the three of them shared. The remaining members of the original 100, along with a collection of friends and family members, had detached from Camp Jaha a few months earlier, choosing to make their home near the dropship. The chaos and responsibility that came with establishing a new home had left the three leaders with very little time of their own, and they cherished the nights where they were all free to just spend time together, outside of their duties. 

Clarke dipped her head down to catch Raven’s lips. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved lazily, gliding her lips over Raven’s mouth. One of Clarke’s hands drifted up to the back of Raven’s neck, holding her in place, even as her fingers tangled in the soft hair at the nape of Raven’s neck. Clarke loved kissing Raven, loved connecting with her in that way, loved spending time just feeling and touching and tasting. Her tongue snaked out for a second to caress Raven’s lips, soft and sweet and wonderfully familiar, before pulling back just the slightest bit. Clarke’s lips curved up into a smile, as she unhurriedly peppered Raven’s lips with light teasing kisses, nuzzling her nose against Raven’s cheek.

She felt a larger hand against her waist, dancing lightly over a place where she was just a little bit ticklish, before dipping down lower to grasp her hip. Clarke’s smile grew larger, even as she continued to kiss Raven lazily. Bellamy’s hand tightened for just a moment, and then he was dragging his rough fingertips over her delicate skin of Clarke’s stomach, teasing but insistent. 

Clarke’s breathing quickened as Bellamy’s fingers dipped lower on her stomach, stroking the soft skin below her belly button. Still, she continued to focus her attention on Raven, dragging her lips down over Raven’s jaw, nipping lightly at the delicate skin where jaw meets neck, before moving down to the smooth column of Raven’s neck. Raven moaned softly, low in her throat, and tangled her fingers in Clarke’s hair, tugging lightly near the roots, just how Clarke liked it. 

Seriously, these days were the _best_.

Clarke moved on to Raven’s collarbone, the sharp jutting bone just begging to be nibbled and soothed. Her skin was salty; the remnants of sun-dried sweat, of hard work in late spring sunlight, and Clarke could never get enough of the taste. Her hands began to mirror Bellamy’s movements on her own body, stroking firmly over Raven’s slender waist, before teasing her lower stomach. Raven gasped as Clarke hit a particularly ticklish spot, and Clarke smiled into the skin of her throat.

“So, this is the way it’s going to be?” Bellamy asked, his voice low and gravely and dark, but tinged with amusement. 

Clarke didn’t look up for a moment, focusing on dipping her fingers down to card through the short hair between Raven’s legs. Raven’s breaths were coming quickly, sharp puffs of air against Clarke’s night-cooled skin. When she finally looked up to meet Bellamy’s dark gaze, Clarke knew that she must look nearly as wrecked as him. 

She smiled wryly, and her voice was raspy with her own arousal. “I like making you wait.”

Bellamy’s pupils widened even further, even as Raven chuckled. The delight in her expression quickly disappeared, however, as Clarke dipped her fingers lower. She stroked Raven’s slit for a moment, gathering the wetness that had gathered there, before slipping up to circle her clit lightly. Raven’s head fell back into the small pile of pelts that served as their pillow, and her eyes slipped closed. Clarke couldn’t tear her eyes from Raven’s face, the smooth column of her neck as she arched her back slightly, seeking more contact, but she could hear Bellamy’s groan from her side. His hands resumed their light teasing touch against Clarke’s lower belly. He definitely had her number, Clarke thought, as he firmly stroked at all of the spots that had her squirming, without ever moving lower. 

Clarke continued to touch Raven, slowly circling her clit with two fingers, using steady pressure to drive the other woman higher. Abruptly, she started moving faster, but with just the barest hint of contact, and Raven practically keened, her hips suddenly moving, seeking to increase the pressure. Bellamy’s touch changed in response, his fingertips just barely ghosting the place where Clarke’s hair started, the rough pads of his fingers delicious against Clarke’s sensitive skin. Clarke could feel herself starting to lose control; she wanted to take this slowly and make the most of the free time that they had together, but she could feel the need pooling deep in her stomach and testing her resolve. Bellamy could almost sense this war within her, and he moved his hand back up, returning to the light stroking near her belly button. 

Beneath her, Raven was squirming, breathing heavily, desperate for _more_. Clarke could tell that if her fingers kept up their pace but added just a hint of pressure, Raven would be coming within seconds. So instead, she slowed her fingers to a tease, even as she gave Raven the friction that she craved. Raven groaned in frustration, but her hips stilled their searching movements, as she focused on what Clarke’s fingers were doing to her. Clarke watched Raven’s chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, and she couldn’t help dipping her head down to catch one of Raven’s dark nipples between her lips. She circled the peak with her tongue for a few moments, before sucking harder, drawing a deep moan of pleasure from the other woman.

Clarke was tuned to both of her partners, even as she focused on touching Raven, and she could hear the moment when Bellamy’s breath began to quicken, as if it was him that she was touching. For all of his good-natured complaining when Clarke and Raven concentrated on getting each other off, leaving him for last, Clarke knew that Bellamy was impossibly turned on by watching the two of them. His fingers tightened against Clarke’s hip, and she knew that she would have tiny bruises against her sensitive white skin in the morning; the thought made her gasp softly against Raven’s breast.

Clarke knew that she was hitting the limits of her resolve, and it only took Raven’s low plea of, “faster Clarke, oh god,” to snap the last threads of her control. She started moving her fingers faster against Raven’s clit, keeping the same even pressure in just the right places. Clarke could feel Raven’s hips beginning to tense, even as her thighs started to tremble, and she reluctantly pulled her mouth away from Raven’s breast, so that she could watch Raven’s face as she lost control. Raven’s back suddenly arched, her face twisted in pleasure, as her orgasm hit. Fuck, she was _gorgeous_ , with her head thrown back and her mouth open, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw breath. Bellamy’s hands continued to move absently against Clarke’s waist, as he also paused his movements to watch Raven in the throes of pleasure. 

Clarke slowed her fingers, allowing them to gently paint through the wetness between Raven’s thighs, as Raven gradually came down from her orgasm. Finally, Raven’s eyes slowly fluttered open, to meet Clarke’s own eyes, dark and aroused.

“Wow, babe.” She managed, a satisfied grin lighting her face.

Bellamy was also smiling down at Clarke, where she lay on her side, next to Raven’s body. “Is it my turn yet?” Without waiting for a response, he used his hands, still resting on Clarke’s waist, to roll her on to her back beside Raven. 

His hands still continued to firmly stroke Clarke’s stomach, focusing on the little spots that he knew drove her crazy, even as he slid his body down the bed until his head was level with Clarke’s hips. Clarke could feel the muscles in her stomach jumping against his fingertips, and her hips jerked upwards in response, as he nosed down into her folds.

“Fuck, Clarke, you’re so wet.” He moaned into her sensitive flesh, as his tongue darted out to taste her. Clarke gasped out in need; watching Raven come apart under her fingers had snapped her fragile grasp on control, and she was desperate for friction. Bellamy absolutely knew this as well, and he was clearly intent on torturing her, as she had tortured Raven just moments before. He lapped enthusiastically against her skin, licking at the wetness that had gathered there, and humming happily at the taste. _Fuck._ Bellamy was way better at this than any person had the right to be, and Clarke shuddered just a little at the teasing touch.

Suddenly, Clarke could feel Bellamy’s tongue working inside her, moving against her walls as he licked his way inside. Her hands reached down to bury themselves into his dark curls, the hair soft against her fists as she pulled gently. Clarke’s clit was beginning to throb, aching at being denied the attention that it so desperately wanted, and she moved her hips minutely, canting her pelvis so that Bellamy’s nose nudged against her clit. Clarke gasped in pleasure and it was good, but she wanted, _needed_ , so much more so she used her hands in Bellamy’s hair to pull his mouth away from her cunt, directing him towards her clit.

“Pushy…” he mumbled against her skin, but he pressed his tongue flat against her clit and Clarke practically arched off of the bed in pleasure. He alternately lapped against the sensitive nub, and flicked the tip of his tongue in tight circles, until Clarke was almost sobbing with need. Distantly, she was aware of movement down between her legs, and she knew, with a flush of satisfaction, that Bellamy was thrusting against the bed as he ate her out, desperate for friction of his own. The knowledge drove her up even higher, knowing that she affected him in this way without even touching him.

Clarke was so close and she pulled at Bellamy’s hair desperately, trying to communicate what she needed from him. Finally, he sucked her clit into his mouth, continuing with the flicking strokes of his tongue, and Clarke could only gasp out his name harshly as she came, her hips tensing for a moment, before thrusting against his face as she rode out her orgasm on his tongue. It was so fucking good, and Bellamy continued flicking his tongue, drawing out her orgasm as long as he could, until she was left flushed and sweaty and boneless against the blankets.

She could feel the little surges of movement down near her calves, and Clarke opened her eyes to see Bellamy’s hips still thrusting gently, shamelessly humping the bed as he lapped at her slit, drinking in the last of Clarke’s wetness. The sight sent another flood of want through her body, and she pulled at his hair, bringing him up to her mouth. She could taste the musky sweetness of her own juices on his lips and tongue as she kissed him hungrily. Clarke snaked one hand down to wrap around Bellamy’s cock, giving him a slow firm tug, and she was shocked when he suddenly stiffened and groaned, dropping his head down to rest on Clarke’s collarbone. Clarke felt a stream of hot liquid against her stomach, and she started to move her hand again, pumping him slowly, as he came over top of her. 

She grinned, and turned her head to meet Raven’s gaze, as she laid next to them, watching intently. “Holy shit,” Raven gasped, “that was really fucking hot.”

Bellamy just groaned in response, from where he still lay with his head pillowed on Clarke’s shoulder, using his forearms to support his weight above her torso. After a long moment, he rolled off of her, to settle next to her, on the opposite side of Raven. He reached over to snag one of their shirts, and used it to gently clean up Clarke’s stomach, before flopping back on to the bed, eyes drifting closed.

All three of them lay there quietly for a few minutes, just catching their breath and enjoying the comfortable silence, before Clarke started to feel an insistent hand walking up her ribcage, fingers dragging lightly between her breasts. When Raven spoke, Clarke could feel more than hear her her soft voice, speaking directly into her ear. 

“Anyone else ready to go again?” Clarke could practically hear the exaggerated pout in Raven’s voice. “I’m the only one who didn’t get to play.”

Clarke’s laugh echoed loudly in the dark stillness of the cabin, even as Bellamy groaned sleepily, turning to bury his head into Clarke’s hair. 

“There is no possible way that I am going to survive you two.”


	4. "Should we use rope or handcuffs?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Should we use rope or handcuffs?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long. Like really super long. And I didn't like any of it, so I deleted it all and rewrote it. And then it kind of got long again. :D

Raven ran her hand down Clarke’s tricep, her fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow, before reaching down to grasp her forearm. She firmly pushed Clarke’s arm above her head, pressing it gently into the mattress. After a moment, she reached out with her other hand to repeat the motion with Clarke’s other arm. Raven knew that Clarke would not struggle, but she did let out a quiet gasp, effectively breaking their kiss. She pulled away just enough to look Raven in the eye, and quirked one eyebrow in question.

Raven just smirked in reply. “What do you think, babe? Are you ready to try something different?”

It all started with a silly online sex questionnaire. 

Raven had pulled up the website one weekend afternoon, insisting that each of them answer the questionnaire, to make sure that they were all “getting their appropriate boxes ticked”. The answers had been largely unsurprising - Raven likes experimenting with toys, Bellamy has an oral fixation, they all have their own fantasies about public sex in appropriately strange places, and none of them are particularly shy about communicating exactly what they want from each other. 

_However_ …

When they started discussing the BDSM section, Clarke suddenly started to blush and avoid eye contact. Raven wasn’t sure that she’d ever seen Clarke jabbering and embarrassed and flushing to the tips of her ears but… there she was. And somehow, between Raven’s teasing innuendo, and Bellamy’s gentle touches and patient questioning, they’d arrived at the truth of the matter. 

Their Clarke — composed, and collected, and fearless and _in charge_ — very much wanted to be tied down and dominated in bed. 

It was kind of perfect.

In fact, it made sense. It was often those people who were so much in control in their daily lives that craved the release that came with just _submitting_ to people that they trusted wholeheartedly. And there was no doubt that Clarke trusted Raven and Bellamy to take care of her.

Raven couldn’t wait to take care of Clarke.

She dipped her head down to kiss the corner of Clarke’s mouth, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered closed. She sighed deeply, and Raven could feel the tension draining out of Clarke’s body as she leaned her weight on the other woman, pressing her arms down into the bed and letting her breasts brush against Clarke’s own chest. When Raven spoke, her lips brushed against Clarke’s jaw, and she could feel Clarke shivering beneath her.

“Should we use ropes or handcuffs?”

Clarke’s eyes flew open, and Raven could hear Bellamy’s chuckle, low and raspy, from where he was seated just inches away. Clarke was quiet for a moment, and her eyes searched Raven’s own, as if she were trying to decide whether she was really serious. Bellamy was the one who finally broke the silence.

“I….uh…” His hand came up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously. “I did some research and some shopping, after we first discussed this a few days ago.” He chuckled again. “You won’t believe what my YouTube recommended video suggestions look like right now.” 

Clarke laughed suddenly, the tension effectively broken. “What did you buy?”

Bellamy reached over to one of the nightstands and rifled around near the back of the drawer for a few moments. Finally, he pulled out a length of soft black rope, and a small sealed package. He held them out for Raven’s inspection. 

“Under-mattress tie downs?” Raven murmured thoughtfully. “Good thinking, Bell.”

He smiled back at her. “I read that they were good for tying down a person’s legs. If… one of us wanted that done.” He gave Clarke a pointed look.

Raven was no longer using any weight to hold Clarke down, but she remained in the position that Raven had put her in, as if held in place by an invisible force. Her eyes darkened at Bellamy’s words.

“I think that I would like that.” She was trying her best to sound casual, but Raven didn’t miss the way that her breath sped up, a blush spreading across the top of her exposed breasts. 

Raven could feel a rush of heat deep in her belly. They were clearly all equals in their relationship, but if they _did_ have a leader, it would unquestionably be Clarke. And Raven couldn’t help being turned on at the idea of _dominating_ the normally unflappable young woman. Her eyes met Bellamy’s, and she could tell that he was thinking the exact same thing. “What do you think, Bell? Can you tie her up?” She raised her eyebrows challengingly.

Bellamy chuckled, but his voice caught just the slightest bit. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He quickly set to work, finding the middle of one of the lengths of rope, looping it over Clarke’s hands, and twisting it together until it held snugly. “I’m tying a basic handcuff knot, and then I’m going to secure the entire thing to the headboard.” He worked quietly for another minute, before finally sitting back on his heels. “Does that feel okay? No sore spots? No rubbing or pinching?”

Clarke wiggled her hands experimentally, and then shifted her shoulders the slightest bit. A soft sigh escaped her lips at the feeling of the restraints. “It feels good.”

“Good,” said Bellamy. “I want you to tell us if things get the least bit uncomfortable.” He looked down at Clarke sternly. “We need to trust that you’re going to stop us if something doesn’t feel right. Like, if anything hurts, or if you just don’t feel right with anything that’s being done to you.”

Clarke nodded and her expression was serious as she looked at Bellamy. “I’ll tell you. I promise.”

“Good. We should probably talk about a safe word if we’re going to be getting any more intense than this, but we can talk about that later. Right now, you need to decide if you also want your legs tied down.”

Clarke’s response was immediate. “ _Please._ Tie them open?” She was again trying to look casual, but Raven could tell just _how much_ she wanted this.

Bellamy grinned at her for a moment, before grabbing the package of under-mattress straps, and ripping it open. He quickly got to work at the end of the bed, lifting the mattress just enough to slip the strap under, and pulling it into position. He carefully looped more rope over Clarke’s ankles, tightening gently before securing each of her legs to the ends of the tie-down strap. 

Raven started off watching Bellamy working with the ropes and straps ( _just how many YouTube videos did he watch?_ ) but very quickly, her attention was caught by Clarke’s reaction to the act of being tied down. She could see Clarke’s chest rising and falling more quickly, and her eyes drifted shut as she surrendered to the sensations and just let herself _feel_. Bellamy’s voice called out to Clarke as he finished.

“Clarke? Are you okay? Does that feel alright?”

Clarke was quiet, her eyes closed and her body completely still. Bellamy reached out and grabbed her ankle gently, giving her a careful squeeze. “Clarke?”

All at once, Clarke jerked back to reality, and her eyes snapped open. For a moment, she pulled at her restraints as she tried to close her legs, shielding herself. Raven’s hand reached out almost instinctively to stroke her cheek, cupping her face gently, and she could feel Clarke relaxing under her touch. “Shhhh. You’re okay. It’s just us.” Raven let her lips drift down to Clarke’s mouth, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered closed again. Raven kissed Clarke sweetly, catching her lower lip for a moment before opening her lips to allow Clarke’s tongue entrance. Clarke groaned against her lips, and Raven could tell that she was surrendering once again. 

Bellamy was murmuring soothing noises from his perch at the end of the bed, and Raven pulled away from Clarke’s lips to watch the movement of his hands, as he traced feather-light touches along Clarke’s calf. His hands moved slowly, tracing lines and figures with his fingers, before moving up to carefully tease the sensitive skin behind Clarke’s knee. She moaned in response. Raven watched Bellamy begin to repeat the same light touches along her lower thigh, before turning her attention back to Clarke’s face. Her eyes were closed tightly, and Raven could see her pulse hammering in her throat; she couldn’t help dipping down to trace the artery in Clarke’s throat with her tongue, and Clarke gasped softly. “Fuck, Raven….oh god.”

Bellamy swore quietly in response, his voice low and choked, and Raven turned quickly to see that Bellamy had reached the apex of Clarke’s thighs. “Jesus, Clarke. You’re so fucking wet. You’re almost _dripping_ and we’ve barely touched you.” Raven could see his fingers circling slowly, and Clarke _whimpered_. “Fuck. You’re so warm and wet and I want to fuck you until you come around me.” His eyes raised up to Raven, and he gave her a little grin before continuing. “But first you need to earn it.”

Raven could feel a shaky breath escape her own lips. _Damn._ He really was too good at this. 

“I don’t want you to come until I tell you that you can, you understand?”

Clarke just moaned in response, and Bellamy abruptly pulled his hand away from Clarke’s clit.

“I said, do you understand?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped open; her pupils were blown and she looked entirely wrecked. When she finally spoke, her voice shook just the slightest bit. “I understand.”

Bellamy smiled at her, his expression soft and approving. “Good.” He started moving his hand again. “I’m going to keep touching you, but I want to watch you eat Raven out. And remember, you don’t come until you have permission.” He looked up at Raven again. “Are you okay with this plan?”

Raven couldn’t help groaning softly in response. “Fuck, yeah.” _No arguments there._ She quickly moved from her position next to Clarke, to straddle her torso. Clarke’s eyes were once again closed as she focused on how Bellamy was touching her, so she gently reached out to stroke the other woman’s face. “Babe? You still with me?” Clarke nodded minutely, her eyes still shut tightly in concentration. “Okay, I’m going to move up to your mouth. That okay?” Another nod. 

Raven grabbed on to the headboard to steady herself, and then moved up to a kneeling position over Clarke’s face. It was a little awkward, without Clarke’s hands to help position and steady her, but after a second she felt Clarke’s tongue snaking out to taste her slit, and she was able to move until Clarke’s mouth was exactly where she wanted it. She could feel Clarke groan against her clit, a deep and rumbly vibration, and _fuck_.

As Clarke’s tongue continued to flick against Raven’s clit, Raven found herself feeling just a little self-conscious. This wasn’t the first opportunity she’d had to ride Clarke or Bellamy’s face, but it was the first time where her partner was completely immobile, unable to do anything other than fuck her with their tongue. She could also tell that Clarke was having trouble figuring out just what to do, without her hands to help with positioning. Her tongue moved eagerly, but also erratically, and Raven guessed that Clarke was not just a little distracted by whatever Bellamy was doing to her with his fingers. Pushing aside the last of her self-consciousness ( _this was Clarke and Bellamy for god sakes_ ), Raven started rocking her hips against Clarke’s mouth, setting a slow but deliberate rhythm. She could feel the very moment that Clarke caught on to what Raven was doing; her mouth locked on to her skin, sucking gently, and she pressed the tip of her tongue right against Raven’s clit with an even pressure.

Raven hissed in pleasure. “Fuck Clarke, just like that. Don’t move.”

As she ground herself against Clarke’s mouth, setting a faster rhythm as she grew more desperate, she was almost overwhelmed by how much control she had over the situation. It was Clarke’s tongue that she was fucking, but she was completely in control of the speed and positioning, in a way that she’d never experienced. And _fuck_ if she didn’t like it.

She could just feel herself starting to approach orgasm, her thighs beginning to tremble where they pressed against Clarke, when suddenly Clarke let out a choked gasp, immediately followed by a frustrated growl. 

Bellamy’s voice was soothing but stern. “Shhhhh, no, not yet Clarke. I know you’re close, but you can hold it off. Just focus on getting Raven off. You can do this.”

Clarke’s groan was desperate, but her mouth redoubled it’s effort, sucking hard on her clit, as the flat of her tongue pressed up hard. Raven looked down at Clarke as she rocked against her mouth, and it was the sight of the other woman - absolutely _gorgeous_ , face contorted with pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, brow furrowed in concentration - that pushed her over the edge. Her hips tensed against against Clarke’s face, holding herself into place against Clarke’s tongue, and Clarke responded with soothing strokes, working Raven through her orgasm with soft flicks of her tongue. As the waves subsided, Raven could feel her tense muscles loosening, and she rolled off of Clarke, to avoid putting all of her weight on her face as her legs gave out. 

Raven snuggled into Clarke’s side, craving the intimate contact as she recovered from her orgasm, and settled in to watch Bellamy as he continued to finger Clarke. His fingers were careful as they stroked her — bringing pleasure as he circled her clit slowly, but meticulously. Not making any sudden movements that might drive her over the edge without warning. 

Clarke’s voice was a breathy whimper right next to her ear. “Please, Bell, can I come? Oh god I’m close. Please.”

Raven could see Bellamy’s satisfied smirk as he looked up at her. “Not yet. I told you that I want to feel you coming around my cock. I’m going to fuck you, and you’re not going to come until I say that you can.”

He slowly withdrew him hand from Clarke’s cunt, and she let out a shaky breath that was mixed with a _whine_ at the lack of contact. It only lasted for a second, though, and then Bellamy was situated at her entrance, teasing her folds with the tip of his cock. “Do you want to be fucked?”

“Oh god, yes. _Please_ Bellamy.” Clarke was totally _wrecked_ ; she wiggled her hips against Bellamy, desperate for any friction, but unable to find it.

Raven shifted her body away from Clarke’s so that Bellamy could support his weight on either side of her torso, and his eyes met hers briefly in thanks. Bellamy’s pupils were so wide that Raven could barely see the dark brown irises that surrounded them; his breathing was shallow and fast, and she could tell that he was rapidly losing the control that he’d held on to so tightly. This was the first time that they had seen Clarke like this — helpless and pleading and just so fucking _gone_ — and Raven could see how it was affecting Bellamy. With a smooth thrust of his hips, he buried himself in Clarke, drawing twin moans of pleasure from both of them. 

He stilled for just a moment, and Clarke pulled against her ropes, trying to grind herself against Bellamy’s cock. He chuckled, low and raspy. “I’m going to fuck you hard. Is that what you want?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped open to meet his. “ _Please._ Just fuck me, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Bellamy immediately set into a punishing rhythm. Drawing his hips back slowly, only to push back in hard and fast. His hips snapped against her, over and over, and Clarke was gasping his name with each rough inward stroke. 

Bellamy’s was panting, his voice choked. “Do you need to come, Clarke?”

“Oh god, yes. Please, oh god.”

He sped up his pace, and Raven could see the way that Clarke’s thighs were trembling, pulling against the ropes. She knew that in a moment, Clarke would be coming, with or without Bellamy’s permission. Bellamy obviously realized it as well, because his voice broke as he spoke again. “Then come for me, Clarke. That’s a good girl.” He pushed into her hard, grinding down against her pelvis with each thrust, and suddenly Clarke’s body was tensing, as she came with an almost inhuman scream. 

Bellamy was still thrusting, fucking her through her orgasm, before he was bucking wildly, Clarke’s name on his lips. He rested his weight on her for a long moment, his body still except for his panting chest, as he struggled to catch his breath. Finally, he rolled off of Clarke, and swiftly went to work at untying her legs from the bed. Raven quickly reached up to release Clarke’s arms, and then curled herself around the other woman. 

Clarke was still in a daze, her eyes closed and her body wracked with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and so Raven concentrated on snuggling into her, stroking her fingers lightly over Clarke’s stomach, as she muttered nonsense into Clarke’s ear. As she held Clarke, Bellamy busied himself with cleaning them both up, before coming over and setting on Clarke’s other side, pillowing her head on his shoulder and stroking her hair. 

Gradually, Clarke came back to herself, until finally her eyes fluttered open. She still looked just a little disoriented, and so Raven spoke to her softly. “How are you doing? Was that okay?”

Clarke laughed suddenly, and her eyes cleared up a little more. “That was _amazing_. I never imagined it would be that intense. Like I couldn’t focus on anything except what you two were doing to me.”

Bellamy grinned a little, just a bit apprehensive. “Not too intense?”

Clarke met his gaze evenly. “No. I would have told you if it was. It was just… incredible.”

Even as she spoke, Raven could see that Clarke’s eyes were starting to droop closed again. “Alright babe, then if we’re all good, I think you could use the sleep. 

“‘Kay. That sounds like a good idea. And you’ve had a lot of good ideas tonight.” Clarke allowed her eyes to flutter closed. 

Raven laughed and turned Clarke on to her side, so that she could curl up against her back. Clarke’s head still rested on Bellamy’s shoulder, and Raven knew that they were all going to wake up with numb limbs in the morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

She gave one last stroke to Clarke’s stomach, as she felt her breathing begin to even out underneath her hand. “Yeah, I’m just full of good ideas.”


	5. artist!Clarke AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://clarkegriffnns.tumblr.com/post/127956933739/modern-au-clarke-smiles-and-tucks-a-piece-of) gifset of modern AU artist!Clarke.

“This has to be against the law.” Raven grumbled, as she flopped on to the sofa and started to unbuckle her leg brace. She was dressed only in a tiny pair of athletic shorts and a sports bra, and yet there was still a fine sheen of sweat on her exposed skin. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that frizzed and curled at the hairline. 

“I checked the laws, and it’s totally legal.” Bellamy said, without looking up from his laptop. “After September 15th, our landlord has to _heat_ the apartment, and it’s completely legal for him to turn off the air conditioning. This is just bad luck.”

All summer, they had complained about the unseasonably cool and rainy weather. They had sat on the beach, bundled up in hoodies and shivering in the cool breeze. Raven had finally talked Clarke and Bellamy into trying out camping, only for them to spend all weekend damp and miserable in the tent. It was one of those summers that just never happened.

And now? Now, it was mid-September and the temperature had spiked above 90 degrees. _Finally._ Except that Bellamy had to spend all day sweating in his un-air-conditioned grad student office, only to come home and discover that the air conditioning had also been turned off for the year in their apartment building. 

He had stripped down to his boxer briefs, but the heat was radiating off of his laptop battery, soaking into his skin uncomfortably, and so he ditched the laptop, as well. It means that the reading for his graduate seminar was going to have to wait, but _really_ , it’s only the second week of classes and the semester seemed to stretch in front of him, infinite in second chances. So different from how it’ll feel in just a few weeks’ time, but he can worry about that in a few weeks. 

“You’re going to fuss at me if I try to touch you right now, aren’t you?” He finally asked, once the laptop has been settled on to the floor next to the sofa. Despite her love of shoving her cold feet under his shirt all winter, Raven _continually_ complained about him being a human space heater.

“You’ve got that right, Blake.” She said, with a warning look. 

“That’s fine, I don’t need you.” He said teasingly. “I’ve got a pretty good view right here.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

Clarke and Raven had insisted that they needed a two-bedroom apartment for the three of them, despite the fact that the three of them could barely be persuaded to sleep on separate sides of the bed, let alone separate rooms. The second bedroom ended up being a sort of studio for Clarke and Raven. Clarke’s art supplies resided on one end, and Raven’s piles of wiring and circuitry and… _whatever_ on the other. They had wedged a sofa (it was, by far, the ugliest brown flowered sofa that Bellamy had ever seen, but it _was_ comfortable, and that was really all that mattered in the end) along the back wall, and Bellamy ended up spending more time than he would have thought reading and studying and _napping_ on that sofa while Clarke and Raven worked long into the night. 

It doesn’t mean that he’s co-dependent, just that he likes being close to the both of them. 

That’s what he tells himself, at least.

And at that moment, Clarke was working on her first project of the semester. Her brush stroked furiously over the canvas, splashing shades of blue near the centre. Every once in awhile, she would pause, surveying her work, before reaching down to pick up a different brush or change colors. She was wearing her earbuds, as she often did when she was working, but Bellamy knew that she would be just as intently focused on her work, even if she could hear his conversation with Raven. 

He loved to watch Clarke when she was completely immersed in a project. Loved to watch the movements of her hand, and the way that the image would appear under her careful brush strokes. Loved the way that her brow furrowed with concentration. Loved how she looked when she finally completed a painting; flushed and satisfied, and almost droopy with sudden exhaustion, once her motivation high wore off. 

She normally threw on one of his old t-shirts when she painted, but today she was dressed in a pair of purple boy shorts and an old white cami top that barely contained her breasts from spilling over the top. Her hair was thrown back in a messy bun, and Bellamy could clearly see a sweat-damp patch on the small of her back, her threadbare top nearly see-through from the moisture. There were streaks of blue paint along her arms, and on her shoulder, and smudged hand prints on her bare thighs from where she tried to wipe the paint off of her hands. 

“I’m totally gonna hit that.” Raven murmured, her eyes wide and appreciative as she watched Clarke paint. 

“Not if I get there first.”

“You wish, old man. I’m way faster than you are, even with one bum leg. It’s pretty pathetic, actually.” She said, one eyebrow quirked in challenge.

“You know that Clarke will murder us both if we interrupt her when she’s working like this. Actually legit murder.” It wasn’t even a joke. They had come close before. Apparently, ‘you looked totally hot’ was not a valid justification for ruining her concentration. 

Raven turned so that she was leaning against the opposite arm of the sofa, and Bellamy reached over to help adjust her legs, tangling them between his, more out of habit than anything. 

“Plus, it’s so fucking hot, that one of us might actually pass out if we attempted to have sex right now.” Raven pointed out.

“It’s a serious possibility.”

As they watched, Clarke wiped more paint off on to her legs, leaving a streak of bright sky blue across her inner thigh. _Fuck_ , Bellamy wanted nothing more than to follow that line of paint with his tongue.

“The heat isn’t all bad, though.” Raven said, raising her eyebrows and trying for a smirk, but succeeding more in a wide, goofy smile. 

He couldn’t help chuckling, low and amused. “It has its perks.”

*

When Bellamy woke up the next morning, Raven’s legs were still tangled with his as she snored lightly on the other side of the sofa, and Clarke was draped over top of him. He felt vaguely sticky from sweat, and from the blue paint smudged over his bare torso. Blonde hair was tickling his nose. 

“We have a bed.” He murmured, to no one in particular, as both Clarke and Raven were clearly still fast asleep. 

Or so he thought, until Raven kicked at his leg, almost missing entirely. “Don’t ruin it.” She grumbled, not opening her eyes.

And yeah, as usual, she was entirely right.


	6. It's True.  All of It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy has no idea how he's managed to gain the trust and respect (and maybe even love?) of a cuddly blonde former Stormtrooper and an angry little mechanic/future Jedi. But he's certainly not rocking the boat. 
> 
> Bravenlarke Star Wars: The Force Awakens AU. For bgonemydear. Because she randomly pitched the idea and then told me I was writing it. :D
> 
> Having seen The Force Awakens is not strictly necessary, but there are definitely some character spoilers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly abridged explanation of why this happened.
> 
>  **bgonemydear:** You guys I just had a thought, Star Wars ot3 au for bravenlarke. Clarke = Rey, Bellamy=Finn, and Raven = Poe.  
>  **gohandinhand:** No, but Raven is definitely Rey okay  
>  **sarahrunsfromzombies:** Raven is Rey. She flies the millennium falcon.  
>  **gohandinhand:** Exactly. Sarah gets me.  
>  **bgonemydear:** Also if we make Clarke Finn then we get a shit ton of princess mechanic with Clarke like heart eyes about Raven. Mm hmm. Ok Sarah this is what you're writing for me.
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO, I have definitely read EVERY SINGLE jedistormpilot fic on ao3 so sorry about any characterization weirdness.  
> IT'S JUST HARD TO WRITE MY OT3 BABIES AS MY OTHER OT3 BABIES RIGHT NOW.

He finds them in the hangar.

( _Of course_ he finds them in the hangar. He’s well-acquainted with the idea of the hangar as a place of solace. He’d practically _raised_ Octavia there, waiting for their mother to come down out of the sky, until the day that she one day _didn’t_. There was no question that they would join the Resistance, and that one day he would fly an X-Wing of his own.)

More specifically, he finds Raven deep in the guts of the Millennium Falcon, cursing colorfully in a language that Bellamy really only understands enough to curse in, while BB-8 chirps some helpful suggestions from a safe distance. His own droid has abandoned him to hang out with these two, which is both _completely typical_ but also not typical at all for his normally very loyal companion.

“She’s rehauling the hyperdrive again,” Clarke explains, from her perch on one of the Falcon’s narrow bunks, a datapad resting in her lap.

It was rare to see Clarke apart from Raven these days. Bonds forged in fire, and all that. But Bellamy also couldn’t miss the way that Clarke’s eyes sometimes travelled over Raven’s slim form in a way that almost radiated _longing_. For someone who spent her entire life hiding her feelings -- really, denying that they even existed -- Clarke was entirely obvious. 

He settles next to her on the bunk and she almost immediately leans her weight into him, her curves slotting into all of the hollows in his body. 

“She’s hiding again,” Clarke murmurs, once her head is tucked neatly under his chin. 

And that’s nothing new, either. 

“Training?” he asks, voice at a similar volume.

Not that that stops Raven from calling out from under the engine grates. “I know you can’t actually see me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not _right here_.”

Clarke grins. “It isn’t anything we wouldn’t say to your face, anyway.” 

Raven huffs, and a second later a loud metallic _thunk_ and a muttered curse comes from inside the engine. 

This is something that Raven is good at -- something she’s always been good at, as far as she knows. Meditating and “listening for the ripples in the force” and levitating pebbles off the ground? She can handle it to a certain point, but eventually it will always send here back here -- to tinker in the bowels of the Falcon, or sometimes in Bellamy’s own X-Wing. Almost always _without his permission_.

(Which had honestly rankled him a bit at first, until he realized that she had managed to fix the slight shimmy to the right and the annoying grinding sound that he had been complaining to Octavia about for months, but he hadn’t quite managed to find the source of. After that, he had just rolled his eyes fondly when he spotted her tearing wiring out of his ship from across the hangar.)

And then there are the days that her fleeing sends her to either Clarke’s room or his own. He doesn’t have the bond with Raven that Clarke does, or that he has with Clarke -- not yet, at least -- but that has never stopped her from seeing him as an _ally_.

It floors him, honestly. To have that level of trust, almost just by the virtue of his relationship with Clarke. 

And that’s why he keeps trying.

“Hey, Raven,” he calls down into the ship. “It’s nearly dinner time, if you’re ready to stop for awhile.”

Of course, that gets her attention. Bellamy doesn’t like to think about the reasons that that always gets her attention. He and Octavia never had much when they were growing up, but there was always someone -- often General Organa herself -- to make sure that they at least had enough to eat. He doesn’t like to think about Raven going hungry. Going to sleep alone, with the pain gnawing in her belly at night.

A second later, Raven’s head pops up through the access door in the grate. “I could take a break,” she says, a wide grin spreading across her face at the sight of Clarke still curled up around Bellamy.

Clarke holds out her hand to Raven, and Raven takes it without hesitation -- the two of them holding hands is practically their natural state at this point. She helps Clarke up to standing, and without even thinking about it, Bellamy is suddenly right there with a hand on her shoulder as she steadies herself on limbs that are still weak and stiff from months of disuse.

That’s how they exit the Falcon a minute later. Clarke’s hand still firmly clutching on to Raven’s, and Bellamy’s arm thrown across her back for support, as she takes still-wobbly steps down the Falcon’s ramp. From across the hangar, Bellamy can see Octavia’s eyebrow raise curiously.

(Hell, his entire squadron has been giving him side-eye for weeks, but Octavia is definitely the worst. “What the hell is going on there, Bell? You gonna _initiate_ both of the newbies?” she’d goaded, the last time he drank with her. He’s definitely avoiding drunk-Octavia for the foreseeable future.)

But then Raven turns and meets his eyes over Clarke’s head, and her smile is wide and just a bit shy. And shit, he has no idea what the hell is going on, but he doesn’t think he’s going to mind seeing it through.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me! I'm sarahrunsfromzombies on Tumblr.


End file.
